irony isn't shy in bed.

when aren't we insecure?

the bird on her necklace
shakes wide its wings
necessity guides her
lithe fingers
to assure it stays

kiss back the words
that are sliding behind her lips-
entertain her
so the days
stop.

a dime will play
for half a sin-
they say it won't last long
       
      breathy sighs

                      break

the dark

vivid heat
rolls around
the two
shades mixing

soon satiation
from blushing friction

then the heat is choking
and it becomes hard to be near and
the width of sheets between is
multipliedbyherfearand-

she'll be alone.